After the Storm
by chrisdancr
Summary: Erik is not sure of what to do after Christine leaves him. He starts to refurbish the opera house, but then meets Emma. This 14 year old dancer has always wanted to be a ballerina at the opera populare. FYI E and E meet in chappie 6
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I own nothing in this story but Emma and her life. Everything else belongs to Andrew Lloyd Weber and Gaston Leroux. Also, I had to do this for a writing assignment in English class, so it's really long and detailed. I don't know if I'm going to do anything with it, but I wanted some opinions on it. Please review!!!

Chapter 1

It was raining. No, it was pouring.

When he had set the opera house on fire, Erik wasn't sure what he would do. He considered that the opera house would burn down and he would just find another place to live. He never thought it would start raining. Actually, he didn't realize it was raining until he was thoroughly soaked. He was so lost in what had just happened with Christine that he was unaware of anything that was happening.

Becoming aware of the fact it was pouring down rain, Erik stepped inside. Without thinking, he slowly walked over every inch of the opera house. In some places, the fire had eaten through the roof, but the rain had come down so hard that there was never a large gap in the roof. The rain was still coming down, but Erik paid not attention to it. Instead, he looked at what the fire had done to the building.

Out of the entire building, the stage had been the most affected because it was the beginning point of the fire. Little fo the curtains were left, only the top few inches of velvet had survived. The orchestra pit had been coated in rubble, but it did not have much damage. The stage itself had been charred and damaged beyond simple repair, but it was possible to clean it. Most of the backdrops had been reduced to rubble, but Erik figured it was for the best. New backdrops could be made.

Even though he knew no one would be coming to the opera house, Erik was careful to make sure no one would know he was there. He avoided most places covered in dust, and he tried to leave the piles of rubble alone. Sometimes he would be forced to move them, but that wasn't too often.

Off in the back corner of the stage, Erik found a rope. He walked over to it, careful about stepping on pieces of glass. He didn't want to spend the next morning picking shards of glass from his shoes. He had been forced to do that once before, and he had found it less that exciting.

Erik looked up to check on the rope's condition. It seemed that it would hold his weight, and he couldn't find any weak spots, so he grabbed onto it. Hoping the rope would hold, be began to climb up, trying to reach the upper levels of the stage. The rope continued to hold, so Erik continued to climb. His eyes were finally level with the flooring when he heard something snap. Looking up, he noticed a weak spot he hadn't seen before. It was slowly unraveling. Hearing another snap, he began to climb again. The rope gave a low-pitched whine while he climbed, and Erik knew he didn't have much time left before it gave completely.

At the exact moment the rope snapped, Erik jumped onto the platform. It took a minute for him to regain his balance, but he managed not to fall over the edge. He had made quite a loud noise, and stood waiting to be sure that no one had entered the building. When no response came, Erik walked forward towards a pile of rubble with a few large chunks of wood poking out.

He reached the pile and started to dig. He didn't care about disturbing this pile, he was determined to retrieve something. At the very bottom of the pile, there was a piece of wood that still had paint on it. It was only about as big as his hand, and it wasn't special in any way. It was just a sort of midnight blue with some white blob on it. Erik grabbed it and cursed. Splinters, he had forgotten about splinters.

Erik walked over to a place where he could see his hand better. Examining it, the splinters had not punctured deep into his skin, so it wouldn't be too hard to extract them. Ripping a piece of cloth from his shirt, Erik wrapped it around his other hand and grabbed the splinters one by one. They came out easily. Then, he wrapped the piece of wood in the fabric so as to not get any more splinters.

Erik surveyed the rest of the upstairs level of the stage. Finding nothing else important or worth looking at, he walked to one of his secret passageways. Pleased to find that it had not been damaged in the slightest, Erik quickly stepped through the door and closed it behind him. It gave a small creak, and then was silent.

Trying to stand up, Erik hit his head on the ceiling. He vaguely remembered never using the passageway if he could. He crouched over and began to walk. It was fairly dark, so Erik was careful to feel his was through the tunnel. Near the end, his foot found stairs. A few minutes later, he reached the other door, and stepped out of the tunnel.

He immediately wanted to go back the way he had come. The passageway had lead him to the roof. He hadn't been on the roof since that night months ago when he was betrayed. The memories were painful. Painful enough to last a lifetime, even without needing to stand on the roof.

Going against his better judgment, Erik walked over to the angel in the far corner, ignoring the slight rain. He climbed up behind the wings of the angel, and looked out over the city. He could see a few people walking around, but no one paid attention to the statues. He stood there for some time, still and quiet. After some time, he slowly stepped off the angel and walked back to the door. This time, he used the actual door since he detested the other way to return to the opera house.

Taking his time, Erik walked down the stairs. He passed through many storage places, not paying attention to anything around him. After walking down more and more steps, taking turns occasionally, Erik found himself in the main hall of the opera house. He looked to see the giant staircase that took up the majority of the entrance. Walking over to the stairs, Erik sat down with a sigh.

The sky had turned very dark by that time, but most of the rain had ceased. Now, there was only the quiet sound of a few drops hitting the ground. It would have been calming to most people. But Erik paid no attention to it. He figured it was around eleven o' clock. He glanced at the wrapped piece of wood he was carrying, and decided it was time to return to his home. He slowly stood up and began to walk.

He walked past the stage, and back through the hallway with the dressing rooms. He reached the end of the hallway and stopped. The door in front of him was no regular door.

_Go on, it's just a room, _said a little voice in his head.

_But it's her room. I just can't do it. Not yet,_ Erik replied.

_Oh no, it __**was**__ her room. She doesn't live here anymore. Now it's just a room._

_You only say that. You never liked her anyway. You always said she wasn't worth my attention._

_And I was right, wasn't I? Now she's gone forever with the wonde—_

"Stop!" Erik roared. He hadn't moved during the conversation, but he was breathing hard. He had gotten so lost in his anger; he had forgotten that the voice wasn't real.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and thought of her voice. Only her voice. He remembered it as it was before it was stolen from him. He calmed down as he thought about it. Erik opened his eyes, and turned around. He would take the long way to his cave. All in all, this was probably the best choice. He would get a chance to think with fresh air.

He reached a side entrance to the opera house and stopped. He listened for any noise that would force him to use the passageway through Christine's room. Nothing came. Erik gladly stepped out onto the street, and rounded the first corner. Turning left onto his somewhat hidden road, he walked briskly to the water. Reaching the small gondola, Erik climbed in and began his journey across the water. Going to the cave brought back more painful memories, but at the same time, they made him glad. He thought of how Christine had sung for him. He had been so sure that she was in love with him. He was so very sure…

_No, _he thought. _I won't let this torture me forever._

He started to think of anything and everything to distract his mind. It wasn't easy. Somehow he could always tie the past events into most things he thought of. Only every so often would his mind focus on something other than his life, but always for only a brief moment. The task was becoming impossible.

With a cry of frustration, Erik realized he had reached his cave. He didn't move for a while. He just stood there, leaning on the giant paddle. He was facing the velvet curtain that covered one of the mirrors in his cave. There was something odd about that curtain. Everything else in his cave had remained untouched, except for that curtain. It had been pushed aside. Erik knew his cave had been searched through, but he didn't understand why nothing had been touched.

Moving again, Erik stepped out of the boat. He leaned the paddle against the closest wall of the cave. As he walked past the curtain, he pulled it back into place, hiding what was behind it. He didn't stop, he just kept walking. He walked over to his organ and paused. He didn't know what to do. Setting the piece of wood on the table beside the instrument, Erik sat down on the bench. He ran one hand over the instrument. The keys felt cold under his hand. Gingerly, he placed both hands on the organ, and began to play.

At first, a soft, discordant sound filled the air. As his fingers continued to glide over the keys skillfully, a sweet melody began to rise above the other notes. As the song progressed, the melody became louder and louder. It filled the air, and seemed to give light to the gloomy cave. When a phrase repeated, Erik began to sing. He didn't know what he was singing, he just sang his heart.

For a long time, Erik sat there, playing the organ and occasionally singing. Sometimes the music would swell and overwhelm his voice, but he never stopped. The music was a sort of refuge for him. It was a way to escape from the world. He could do whatever he wanted to with his music, and no one would stop him.

When Erik finally stopped playing, he had no clue as to how much time had passed. All he knew was that there seemed to be something missing in him. He knew exactly what it was, but he couldn't admit it to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry if this seems to be going really slowly, but I'm trying to write it in the length of a book. Also, if the chapters grow short, it's because of what I'm writing them in. My book is somewhat small, so it looks really long to me…Again, I only own Emma (who hasn't appeared yet). Everything else belongs to the genius of Mr. Webber and Mr. Leroux.

Chapter 2

After what seemed like forever, Erik finally fell asleep. It was a dream-less, coma like sleep. He woke up with no way of telling what time it was. He put on fresh clothes, and instinctively reached for his mask. Looking at his hand, Erik realized that he had lost his mask. He had watched the Giry girl take it outside to show to her mother.

With a sigh, Erik turned around and walked over to one of the smaller "rooms" in the cave. Inside was a mannequin that bore a strong resemblance to her. Since she had exchanged outfits with the doll, the doll now wore a black and gold dress with a wedding veil on her head. Some people might find that amusing, but again, to Erik, it brought back painful memories. While starring at the mannequin, Erik realized that he had to move it.

Erik walked over to the stairs near the room and sat down. He tried to think of a place to put the mannequin. A corner that he didn't not see very often, maybe. Unfortunately, there was not a place that he didn't see very often. That was the con to living a cave he guessed.

With a sigh, Erik realized he would have to find a better curtain to cover that part of the cave. Unfortunately, that meant he needed to find some sort of fabric. With the loss of his mask, this would be a difficult task. He couldn't go out in public in fear that his face would be seen, and he couldn't send a letter because no one is living in the opera house. With such a dilemma on his hands, Erik did nothing else that whole day. He just sat in silence, moving only after he began to fear that he would never move again. This time, sleep came after along time, but with dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: sorry to switch gears so quickly, and sorry if this is confusing at first. I have to introduce Emma. Um, if you don't understand, everything will make sense in the following chapters (when I have time to type them. School is rough…)

Chapter 3

Emma was…tired. She had stayed up late in order to rehearse for her next performance. Madam Lafev had received a special guest, someone by the name of Giry, and had made the girls stay late to rehearse. Since Emma was a background dancer, she had to rehearse the longest. It took many times to get everyone in the group to dance together and look the same. The leads had left long before the corps was finally dismissed.

Unfortunately for Emma, being tired was not a valid excuse for not getting up. Dancing was something that her mother had never fully approved of. There were times she liked it, and times she tried to point out that Emma should not be a dancer. Anything bad that happened was somehow blamed on dance. Emma would just have to force herself out of bed.

Today was the beginning of a two week trip to Paris. The entire town had been made aware of this trip, and Emma was determined for it to go well. She could just see her mother coming back telling everyone had the whole first part of the trip had been ruined because her daughter was too tired from dance. Any signs of exhaustion would prove disastrous at this point.

Emma finally sat up after contemplating whether to stay in bed anyway. It was too early for her mother to be ready to leave, but Emma knew better than to try her luck. With a groan, she stood up and slipped her pink robe on. She looked around for her slippers, but she could not find them. Slowly, she remembered having packed them the night before when all she could do was think of sleep. Turning to her door, she left her room barefoot.

She walked down the hall, turned left, and walked down the stairs. Heading to the dining room, Emma walked past many pictures. She hated walking past the pictures. They seemed to stare at her wherever she was. Turning her attention back on what she was doing, she thought about the possibility that she would not find food. She decided she didn't care. She would sit and wait forever if she had to. Reaching her chair, she noticed a small plate with a piece of dry toast sitting out for her. She smiled. Anne (the servant/maid) was always aware of what Emma needed. Rehearsal always made Emma hungry, and so Anne must have left it out for her to find.

For some time, Emma sat at the table, letting her mind wander while she nibbled at the toast. She thought about the rehearsal the night before, she thought about the trip, she thought about her dreams. She wondered what she would do about missing dance. The thought had not occurred to her before. There was only one part of the trip that made it worth missing dance. For a whole day, she and her mother would take a tour of the famous Opera Populáre. She had wanted to see the opera house for such a long time. Unknown to anyone, Emma wanted to be one of the perfect ballerinas that dance upon its stage. Now, maybe someone would watch her dance and take her in. Oh how she dreamed.

Eventually, Emma began to smell the sweet aromas that are associated with her breakfast. Soon after, she was served a large breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon, and strawberries. Realizing how hungry she was, Emma quickly ate all that was on her plate.

Just as she stood to exit the room, Emma's mother walked in. Fully dressed, Emma's mother could pose as a woman of royal blood. Though she was not, it gave her pleasure to dress as one. With her perfectly fitted clothes, bright colors, and simple jewelry, she was a woman who led a good life.

"Good morning Emma," her mother said, surprised her daughter was awake that morning.

"Good morning mother," Emma replied happily.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, I did. When would you like to leave?"

"Oh, in about an hour's time. I trust that you have packed everything."

"Yes ma'am. I shall go and get ready for our trip."

Emma quickly left the room, noticing he mother's pleasant mood. Hopefully she would retain that mood throughout the day. Unfortunately, even the smallest thing could set her off today. Emma would have to be careful…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A little less than an hour had passed, and Emma was already stepping into the carriage. After she sat down, she straightened the simple frock she was wearing. It was a plain-cut dress that hugged her torso and flared out the slightest amount in the skirt. It's deep midnight blue looked well with her light skin and brown hair.

After making sure that everything was ready and in place, Emma's mother stepped into the carriage and sat down. She seemed very pleased that they were leaving early, even if it was only by a matter of minutes. Once everyone had settled, Emma's mother gave the signal, and the driver started the horses. The carriage quickly came to life as the horses trotted out to the street.

Emma and her mother sat in silence for a few minutes. They were both trying to avoid having to find a topic to discuss, a trait that they lacked. Finally, Emma asked her mother what kinds of things they would be doing. As if relieved to have an easy answer, her mother started to rattle off everything about the trip. Where they were staying, where they would eat, what they would see, and where they would shop.

Emma listened to her mother happily. She was glad to not have to do much talking. This one-sided conversation could last quite a while. Emma began to tire of her mother's voice, and began to pay no attention to it. Instead, she let her mind wander. She began to think of what could happen while she was on the trip, and got so involved in it, she almost missed her mother talking about the Opera Populáre.

"-quite sorry to say this Emma. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing the opera house. While I was talking to Mrs. Boulá last night, I heard terrible news. Apparently there was a horrific accident, and the opera house caught on fire."

"WHAT?!?!?" Emma practically yelled.

"I'm not quite sure. I think she said something about a madman or a ghost or something setting the place on fire. I know that it was not entirely burned down, but I doubt it will be used again. I can only imagine the remodeling and reconstruction needed," her mother explained. Emma was surprised at the fact that her mother didn't seem upset at all.

Emma on the other hand, didn't know what to say. The one part of the trip she was really looking forward to had been taken away from her.

_Why?_ She asked. _Why did this happen? Does someone really not want me to be a ballerina????????_

She tried to convince herself that it was another lie told to keep her from dancing, but she just couldn't do it. Her mother sounded much to sincere and sorry to have to tell her what had happened. It was definitely too natural to be faked.

_The one time I wouldn't have minded if she was lying…_

At that point, Emma became very quiet. Her mother looked like she wanted to say something, but she decided against it. The only thing that went through Emma's head at that moment was: _What am I going to do?_

Eventually, Emma's lack of sleep took over, and she drifted into a deep sleep. Strange dreams drifted through her mind, all about some hidden figure. Emma even "visited" the opera house in her dreams. It was like something or someone had called her there.

When she woke up, Emma realized that she was going to see the opera house no matter what. She knew her mother wouldn't let her, so she was just going to have to find some way to get there.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon arriving in Paris, Emma began to talk again. She asked her mother where they were, and she looked around at everything she saw. Maybe she would like Paris after all.

Her mother, glad that her daughter was talking again, answered every answer Emma had. She was also happy to have something to do again. She was becoming bothered by the silence in the carriage. The uplift in her daughter's attitude made the last part of the trip enjoyable.

After driving through most of the town, the carriage finally stopped in front of where they would be staying. The Peacock Feather Inn was a very nice-looking place. With a plain white building, it was simple yet elegant.

As Emma looked around, she noticed a Swavorski Jewelry Store, two bakeries, some deserted building, and a garment store. Her mother ushered her inside before she could see more.

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That night, Emma began to form a plan as to getting her into the opera house. That is, getting her there without her mother knowing. She knew where she was in relation to it, and she knew how to get there. She stayed up all night figuring out what would work.

By morning, she had her plan.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Ok, here's another chapter. I have more planned out; it's just a matter of when I actually have time to type them. Thanks to all of you who have read my story, I appreciate it. I will hopefully write another chapter by next week, but if I don't then I have a feeling that a certain Phantom won't be happy with me. Again, I do not own Phantom, any other characters, or anything from the story. I own Emma and her life.

Chapter 5

Erik sat with a start. He had been in a nightmare, except it was only a bad memory. He was young again and traveling with the freak circus. His "master" was yelling at him again and beating him. Erik's "mask" was ripped off his face. He was yanked by his hair, forced to look up at the gathering crowd. The crowd enjoyed seeing this cruelty and mistreatment. Erik tried not to show his pain, but it was becoming too much to bear. He could feel the bruises forming on his back all ready.

Finally, the man stopped beating him. Erik quickly reached for "mask", ducking his head down in the process. The less people saw, the better. Besides hiding his face from the world, the burlap sack hid Erik's embarrassment and tears. This was not the first time he was forced to be a public attraction, but it was the worst. As he had been forced to look at the crowd, Erik recognized familiar faces in the audience. They were his mother's old friends.

Erik closed his eyes. The scene had been so real that he needed time to remember that he was no longer at the circus. When he finally calmed down, he slumped back onto his bed. He tried to push the memory out of his head, but it would not go away. He tried to think of a new score to write down, but then realized that there was no point in doing so. There was no one in the opera house and he wouldn't need to write it down to play it. Beginning to feel a sort of depression, Erik stared at the ceiling. He had never been good at getting painful memories out of his head, and this night was no different.

For the rest of the night, Erik stared at the ceiling and let his mind wander. He gave up trying to suppress bad memories, and he thought of everything and nothing. He didn't remember what he thought of, but he occasionally thought of a random phrase two or three times. The bad thing about this was that in letting his mind wander, Erik knew he would never get back to sleep that night. Even as his body tired, his mind kept going.

One other bad thing about letting his mind wander would be that his mind kept focusing on the events of the past few days. He was scarred from that day and he would never forget the ultimate betrayal of Christine. Erik desprately tried to keep away from these memories, but it did not work. He would try to think of things that were not so painful. Things that would not make him want to run and hide like he had done so many times before.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. Eventually, Erik's body was defeated, and it began to wake up. Slowly, Erik sat up again. His bare feet met the cold, stone floor which sent a shock through his body. Though it was not terribly cold outside, the cave was unpleasantly cold place to live.

Erik sighed.

_Is this how I'm going to live the rest of my life? Wallowing in self-pity and too isolated in grief to do anything?_

Erik asked himself these questions while he dressed. He knew that if he didn't do something, like find a mask, he would never do anything. He would learn to live like a hermit. He would never leave his cave again, not even to go into the opera house.

_No!_

He would find a new mask that day. He was determined to find something, even if it was another sack with holes. He would welcome anything that hid his disfigurement. Anything at all.

Still beating himself up mentally, Erik stepped into the boat and started to make his way across the lake. Erik was too distracted to notice how quiet the place was with no one living there. To anyone else, it might have been too eerie of a silence to bear.

Erik reached the edge of the lake and stepped out of the boat. Thinking that some exercise might help to clear his brain, Erik decided to take the longer route into the opera house. Walking through the spacious ally ways gave Erik a sense of what the fire had really done to people. He could hear nothing, and his hearing was extremely good. No one dared go near the opera house in fear of him was his guess.

Having walked at a brisk pace, Erik reached the large staircase quickly. He began to ascend the stairs not really paying attention to where he was. His feet had walked over the opera house so many times that they knew where to go. Reaching the top of the stairs, Erik turned right and walked to the hidden passageways nearby. Taking a left, he walked down a hall full of "lamps". In truth, they looked more like candelabras stuck on the wall. In between each was a door to some dressing room. Erik passed by all of them. Reaching the end of the hallway, Erik finally realized that his feet were taking him somewhere other than where he wanted to go.

If you were to glance at the wall, you would just see a plain wall. If you looked at the wall for a while, you could see that it was another door that was more hidden than the rest. If you walked right up to the wall, you would see that the door is a one-way mirror. You could look inside the dressing room and see everything in there. For example, you could make sure that the flower you gave a certain occupant was received. Unfortunately, there was only one door like this in the opera house. And the last occupant had been the rising star/student of the mysterious Phantom of the Opera.

Erik sighed and closed his eyes. He knew he would have to face this sooner or later.

_Come on, you know you want to,_ said the annoying voice in his head.

"No, not now," he whispered. He wouldn't be able to handle it yet.

_You might as well get it over with. It's easier than you think!_

"Will you be quiet? I'm not going in now," Erik growled.

_Fine._

Temporarily silencing the annoying voice, Erik turned right and walked down another hallway, running from his past again. Remembering his problem about a mask, Erik weaved through more hallways until he reached the stage. Seeing the damage from the fire for the second time was helpful. Erik noticed how little the stage was actually damaged. Sure there was dust and rubble everywhere, but that was easily cleaned.

Erik walked over to the edge of the stage and sat down. He looked out onto all of the seats. Once the remains of the chandelier were removed and some of the paint redone, it could look as if nothing had happened to this part of the opera house. Turning around and facing the stage, Erik figured that the stage wouldn't be too hard either. FI he swept the stage, re-hung old curtains, and repaired falling equipment, the stage would be passable.

Standing up, Erik went in search of a broom and gloves. HE had once again forgotten about his mask. Instead, some newfound force inside of him was telling him to work on the theater area. Erik was soon swept up in it. He slowly began to fix the stage.

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Erik: you write too slow.

Me: well, I try my best. Plus I have school and homework.

Erik: that is no excuse.

Me: ok, ok. I will write sooner next time. Plus, I had to think of some way to get you and Emma in the same place (Emma's in the next chappie).

Erik: fine. Just HURRY UP!


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: OK, I finally know what I want to do with this story…at least I hope I do. School is nightmare-ish, but I'm trying. So here's the next chapter, and all normal copyright issues apply. I'm just too lazy to type them out. Please read and review!

Chapter 6

Emma was excited. That night, she was going to sneak out and go find the opera house. She wasn't sure of what to expect since there had been the fire, but it couldn't be too bad could it? She was just going to look around anyway.

Since it was their first full day in Paris, Emma was dragged around by her mother to museum after museum. Though Emma usually liked art, she just didn't like what she saw. To her, most of it was angular or busy. Emma liked very simple things, including works of art.

Unfortunately, Emma's mother loved it, and kept dragging Emma from picture to picture. What's more, Emma's mother met other women who were visiting and made friends with them. Emma had a feeling that everything they were going to do for the rest of the trip would include that group of women.

_Oh joy…_

After being dragged across town, Emma finally got to sit down and have dinner at a little restaurant called _La Petite_. It was actually a good meal, even though Emma wasn't entirely sure of what she was eating. She was too excited about seeing the opera house.

_Just a few hours. Just a few more hours…_ Emma kept repeating to herself.

When she had finally finished talking to her new friends, Emma's mother let Emma go back to the inn. Becoming an actress, Emma got cleaned up and changed into her nightdress. She climbed into bed, wished her mother good night, and slowly pretended to fall asleep. Listening carefully, Emma heard her mother take out a book and read. Shifting carefully, Emma positioned herself so that she could watch her mother. After glancing up a couple times, Emma finally saw her mother put the book aside and blow out the candles. By the time Emma's eyes adjusted to the dark, her mother was asleep.

To be careful, Emma was quiet in her work. First, she got dressed in some plain clothes she had stuffed at the bottom of her suitcases. Then, she arranged pillows and clothes in her bed to make it look like she was still in bed. Then, she grabbed her shoes and the key. She smiled as she quietly walked out the door. The owners of the inn didn't notice her walk out into the darkness of the night.

As she slipped her shoes on, Emma looked both ways down the street. She didn't see any movement, but she couldn't be sure. It had gotten extremely dark. With caution, Emma headed up the street and took a right towards the middle of town. Walking five blocks, Emma took a left and found her destination. Pausing for a moment, Emma looked at the Opera Populáre in amazement. She imagined how glorious it must look in the daylight. She could just picture the lines of people, waiting to see one of the operas be performed.

Snapping back to reality, Emma walked across the street and up to the front doors. For a moment, she just stared at the intricate designs that had been carved on the door. When she tried to open them, nothing happened. Somehow, the doors had been locked.

_Oh well, so you weren't so lucky. Here you are! You're in front of the Opera Populáre! There has to be some way inside. Try around back…_ came a voice in her head.

With a sigh, Emma started to walk again. Looking over every inch of the opera house, Emma slowly made her way to the back where she found the stables. Slightly surprised, she found the stables empty. To her disappointment, they were locked too. Emma stood there for a while, wondering what she should do.

After standing there for a little while longer, Emma decided to go back to the front of the opera house. She had some strange feeling that it was what she should do. She walked back to the front much quicker this time, only to realize that she had no idea of what to do. Beginning to feel disheartened, Emma was about to go back to the inn when she heard the music.

Emma's hearing was extremely good, and she was well aware when something went wrong musically, even when others could not. Because of this, she heard the perfect music. The perfect music that was soft and flowing, but strong and complex at the same time. The music she heard was something that even the best of musicians could dream of playing. What's more, Emma noticed that the player was **flawless**. No notes were skipped, no notes made the flow of the piece stop. The piece, and performer, as a whole was perfection.

For a while, Emma stood there, listening to the sound. She thought of how much emotion she could feel coming from the sound. She noticed every key-change, every crescendo, every repeat. Coming to the conclusion that the music was from somewhere inside the opera house, Emma quickly tried to put words to the music. She would try to sing her way into the opera house. Creating the most mediocre lyrics in the world, Emma tried to get the attention of the musician. Emma needed to learn how to put better words to songs…

_Is there someone there?_

_Playing this sweet music?_

_Can you help?_

_And save me from this darkness?_

_I'm alone out here, and I hear you as you play,_

_I can hear you speak your soul with this music,_

_The music in the darkness of the night._

Emma heard the player play one last, very soft, note before stopping. She was certain that the song wasn't over, and wondered why the music had stopped. It sounded too far away for her to have actually been heard, but who knew? Emma closed her eyes as she thought, realizing how tired she really was. Forcing her eyes open, she gasped.

One of the doors lay open. Emma reached out and touched it to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Her hand met wood, and her thoughts began to race.

_Should I go in? Maybe I should leave…How did the door open? Was I really heard? _But most importantly, _WHAT JUST HAPPENED???_

Emma thought for another moment, and sighed. It would be a long night. She decided that she was going into the opera house. This had been her plan, and she was going to follow it through. Plus, she didn't want to seem rude to whoever it was that had opened the door for her.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Emma stepped inside the opera house.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: REVIEWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm pleased now. Um, going over some reviews: no I really wasn't fond of the last chapter, but I didn't know how else to get the two to be in the same room. If I used something that I've read before and I just don't know it, I didn't mean to, and I am pleased to admit that it is not my work. There is a reason Emma is 14, and it makes sense…eventually. She's supposed to be young and innocent, but I had to make her old enough to have a good feel for others emotions and for her to be "bold" enough to possibly make Erik mad if I wanted her too. If that made no sense, I'm sorry…my thoughts are not very organized (I blame it on school)

As usual, I own nothing but Emma and her life, though I would love to have been the one to create the Phantom of the Opera.

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Chapter 7

Erik sat in the shadow, his disfigured face full of concern and confusion. One moment he was playing his organ in as close to peace as he could get, and the next, he hears some girl. She had a fair voice, but it did not hold much potential. None the less, he listened to her and obeyed her request to open the door. He was confused about how she heard him playing.

Turning his attention on the girl for the first time, Erik focused on trying to figure out who he was. She had taken about three steps into the grand hall and had stopped. His face relaxed as he saw the look on her face. Even with some fire damage, the grand hall could still amaze people. The size in particular seemed daunting. Plus the statues, the giant staircase, and the gold leaf handiwork, it was too much to describe. Luckily, there was not terribly much dust in the room, so it was still possible to see what the grand hall was like before the fire.

Eventually the girl began to walk slowly. She went up to some of the statues to look at them up close. She walked up the marble staircase to the platform. Turning back to face the door, a slow smile spread on the girl's face. From where he watched, erik could feel her excitement and pleasure with the opera house.

In the time it takes to blink, the girl had suddenly turned and run up the rest of the stairs, disappearing from view.

Erik sighed as she left. She reminded him of how he had felt when he had first seen the completed opera house after some of his modifications. As soon as he had found a way, Erik had explored every inch of the opera house. Using secret passageways and making his own, Erik had found his way to move through the opera house undetected. Eventually, he would use them for things such as following strange girls that entered the burned down opera house. Thinking about the girl again, he smiled at her interest, but began to wonder to where she had run off. He had never seen her at a performance, unless she was at _Don Juan_, but he could not be sure. He would have to figure this out.

Standing up, Erik brushed off the dust that had fallen onto him. He re-adjusted his cape and set off. Careful not to make a noise, he slipped into one of his most used passageways and went to find the girl. Not sure of where he should look first, Erik walked in the general direction that she had run. He was hoping to hear something.

He had no such luck.

After the first ten minutes, Erik began to quicken his search. He did not want the girl to go places she shouldn't be. He checked all of the dressing rooms, the dormitories, washrooms, and practice halls. He still had no sign of the girl. Beginning to run ever so slightly, Erik made a quick search of his passageways. He noticed that she had not found them, which relaxed him slightly. Looking into the stable, he realized he had not checked the stage or auditorium. Making his way back through the building, he kept a trained ear still trying to hear her.

He stepped into the auditorium through the highest entrance, sure that the girl would not be looking at the ceiling. Scanning the audience and the stage, he noticed a figure in the back. His mystery girl. She was staring at the stage, looking awestruck. Glancing back at the stage, Erik remembered cleaning the chandelier off and getting rid of all the ash. There was nothing unusual looking about the stage other than there were no curtains, so Erik assumed that the girl had heard about the fire.

_So she's from France. News does not travel fast enough to reach many other countries yet. That helps…slightly._

Making his way closer to the girl, Erik studied her. She was skinny, but not in a sickly way. She had longish brown hair that waved slightly. She appeared to be no more than fifteen. In this light, she did not look stunning, but she did not look plain either. There was something about her.

Actually looking at her face, and being much closer, Erik had to stop himself from laughing. She was smart and innocent, but her face was so queer. She looked at the stage in…disbelief? It was odd, but before he could do anything, she began to walk towards the stage as if in a trance.

Keeping an eye on her, Erik thought of ways he could reveal himself, IF he was going to reveal himself. Nothing seemed right to say or do. And that was when he remembered about his little problem of no longer possessing a mask. He was not going to scare the girl, not yet anyway, before he had a chance to know more about her.

Focusing his entire attention on the girl once again, he found that she had reached the stage. She had not mounted the stage; she was merely standing there, rubbing the surface with her hand. Erik noticed a piece of crystal that he had failed to pick up that was close to her hand. She didn't seem to notice it, and Erik was apprehensive of the girl hurting herself. As though hearing his thoughts, the girl looked at the crystal piece with a blank stare and picked it up. She put it in the small bag that she was carrying.

For the first time, Erik realized that the girl was not in some trance, she was merely in deep thought. Looking at the girl with this new angle, Erik could almost see her think. He just didn't know what she was thinking about.

In one swift movement, the girl turned away from the stage. Between the look on her face and the turn, Erik now knew two things about the girl. First, she had been wondering about if she would go onto the stage (obviously deciding against it). Second, she was a well-trained ballerina.

Hastening to catch up with the girl, Erik thought through what he had seen. Not paying attention to where he was going, he stepped on a rather loud piece of wood. It groaned loud enough for the girl to hear it. With a swoosh of her clothes, she stopped and looked close to where Erik was standing. Erik was well into the shadows, but he dared not move until she looked away. She was looking at an area very close to where he was. Hearing and seeing nothing, the girl headed out the door.

Looking through a nearby window, Erik watched her walk into the night and disappear from view. He had wanted to see which part of town she came from, but it was too dark for him to watch her long enough.

Finding a rope, Erik slid down to the main level. He had decided to retrace the girl's path and she exactly where she had gone while he had lost her. Heading up the stairs, he looked for signs of which way she had gone. Seeing a few objects that had been moved, Erik set off to the right. After a few minutes of following traces on the floor, Erik looked up to see a pair of doors in front of him. The girl had gone straight to the audience. Thinking back, Erik noted how long she must have stood there before he had found her.

With very little understanding of the girl, Erik made his was back to his lair. He spent the rest of the night trying to deduce more about the girl. No matter what came to his mind, he turned everything down. Even as he lay in his bed, he could not come to any conclusion about the girl. Eventually he stopped thinking about her long enough to remember about his mask.

_What am I going to do? _

_I don't know…maybe SLEEP would be helpful? It's just a suggestion_ came a voice.

With a sigh, Erik tried to focus on a new piece he wanted to compose after he had finished cleaning the stage earlier that day, or yesterday. He didn't know what time it was. It was the instrumental part to a song he heard months ago. It didn't help him fall asleep. Erik gave up, and laid there, staring up at the ceiling until sleep finally overtook his body.

He slept a sleep full of dreams. Some he recognized as memories, and some he recognized as the girl. His sleep was not very peaceful in any way with painful memories and burning curiosity in his head…

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P.S. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! That's it for now. Until I have a break from homework…

Erik: *stares at me*

Me: *raises my eyebrows*


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: all I can say is that there is no excuse for me being this late. SORRY!!! Oh, and I know that I'm a little off as to when the Eiffel Tower was being constructed…but I thought it would be cool for her to see.

Has anyone seen the new song from Love Never Dies? I like it!!!

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Chapter 8

Emma reached the inn quicker that she had found the opera house. While she changed back into her nightgown, she thought about what she had seen. She mentally slapped herself for only seeing the main hall and the stage. She could have seen so much more. But then, she remembered the odd trance she had fallen under. It was like something had been calling to her. That was odd.

As she fell asleep, she said a silent prayer in thanks that no one had found out about her little nighttime adventure. But then, she remembered something. That really big creak that she had brushed off as the wind just didn't seem right. It sounded more like weight was being put onto the board than wind moving the board. And then there was the rustling. She heard the rustle of…clothes while she was in the opera house. There's no one in the opera house that she knew of. _It was just the wind… _

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The next morning, Emma was dragged out of bed by her mother. Her mother seemed excited about that day. Groaning, Emma crawled out of the bed and with the help of her mother, was ready in half an hour. Still half asleep though, Emma was guided to a small café where they joined the women whom they had met the day before. They ate breakfast there and began their day.

Emma finally understood why her mother was so excited. They were going to see the Eiffel Tower. It was pretty impressive and something that Emma would have normally enjoyed. It was just that something was bothering her about the night before. She didn't know what it was though.

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_Finally, it's nighttime. I thought it would never come! _Emma thought. Since lunch, the day had seemed to take ten times as long as normal. Emma was not patient.

Like the night before, she waited until her mother was asleep before she left. This time, she put on a rehearsal outfit, grabbed her pointe shoes, and grabbed her cloak. She would dance tonight.

Remembering her way to the opera house, Emma got their much quicker. Or at least, she got to the street that led to the front entrance. She stopped. There was something off in the distance that was coming towards her. As it grew louder, Emma realized that it was the sound of hoof beats. As they got even louder, they slowed.

Pinpointing where they were coming from, Emma turned to see the most beautiful horsed she had ever seen. It was entirely black from head to hoof except for its face. It almost looked as though the horse had a mask or something like it over its right eye. Emma laughed quietly. The horse heard her, and walked even closer towards her. It was fairly large, but Emma knew that it would not harm her. The horse reached down its head and nuzzled her hand. Emma reached up and began to pet the horse. She noticed that it was wearing a bridle, but no saddle.

_Strange. Is it a driving horse? No, it's too lean. I wonder whose it is._ Emma's answer soon came.

From the direction that the horse came, Emma heard the quick step of feet. The horse did not seem to notice. Trying to see around the horse, Emma saw a figure running towards her. They were wearing what looked like an all black suit (she guessed it was a man), and a cloak. The hood was up, which surprised Emma because she would have thought it would fall down.

As he got closer, Emma could tell more about him. He was somewhat tall, but she had seen men taller then him, just not many. He was a good runner, and seemed to have no trouble chasing so far after his horse. As he got closer, she could hear him mumbling something. The mumble came to her like a foreign piece of music, and Emma decided that he must be a singer. She almost forgot where she was because of that voice.

The horse eventually shifted, and Emma and the man had a clear view of each other. It seemed that he had not noticed her before, but when he saw what had stopped the horse, a look of shock crossed his face. He immediately ducked his head down, but not before Emma could see his face. She was pretty sure that he had something like a white mask on his face.

The man slowed to a walk, and cautiously approached Emma and the horse.

"Is this your horse mousier?" Emma asked while still petting the horse.

The man simply nodded as a reply.

_How strange!_ Emma thought.

Seeing its master, the horse walked over to the man. With a sigh, he began to rub the horse like Emma had been doing. His face was blocked from view, but Emma could sense that he really was not happy, and it wasn't because of the horse.

"Thank you for stopping my horse," the man said after a long silence.

"Y-you're welcome," Emma managed to say. That voice! It was so beautiful and rich and perfect! Emma wanted to hear more.

After another long pause, Emma finally found her voice. "He is a beautiful horse. What do you call him?"

"Caesar," the man replied. Out of nowhere, the man asked her, "Are you a dancer?"

"Yes, I am…"

"Ah, I noticed your pointe shoes and your skirt," the man said. He had said more than he had before, and it stunned Emma. That voice was overpowering.

"Yes. I'm sorry, but I must leave. Good-bye monsieur. Good-bye Caesar," Emma said in a rush. Did she really just say good-bye to a horse? She was nervous.

With a chuckle, the man replied his own farewell. Emma turned and walked towards the opera house. Looking back at the horse, she noticed that the man was watching her leave. Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away.

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Having finally reached the opera house, Emma found the front doors open. Was someone expecting her? Cautiously, she walked through the door and looked around. No one approached her. Still wary, she made her way to the stage. Walking past rows and rows of seats Emma realized how big the room really was. She feared that she would have been too scared to dance on it if there had been an audience. But, there was not an audience so Emma was not as scared.

She reached the stage and looked for stairs. Finding none, Emma set her shoes on the stage and hoisted herself onto the stage. It was not terribly high, so she didn't have much difficulty. Standing up, Emma looked for something she could use as a barre. Near the back corner of the stage she found a chair that would have to suffice until she could find something better.

Emma dragged the chair to the middle of the stage and set her cloak down next to her pointe shoes. Returning to her "barre", she began to warm up in her stockings. They worked as well as canvas slippers. She worked on everything she could at the barre.

While she stretched, she thought of what she could do in her pointe shoes that night. She did not just want to do center work; she did enough of that at home. No, she would rehearse pieces from the ballet that her company was to perform. She would rehearse her part so that she remembered the corps work, and then she would move onto the solos that she now knew by heart. Seeing those pieces over and over again had drilled the steps into her head.

Emma finally finished stretching and put on her pointe shoes. She did a few roll-ups to warm her ankles. After pulling the chair back to where she had found it, Emma did some quick center work. After a few minutes, she was ready to start.

Walking off stage left, Emma positioned herself to where she would normally stand in relationship to the other girls. She played the music in her head and began to dance. It was not hard choreography, and Emma had a lot of time to just let her mind wander. Eventually, she finished the corps work.

Exiting stage left again, Emma decided to pretend that she was a soloist in a real performance. She walked upstage and ran to the center. Just before the music would begin, Emma looked out onto her imaginary audience. They seemed anxious to see if she would be any good.

Emma began to dance. It was not her favorite variation in any way, but she tried her best anyway. When she finished, she held the final pose for a minute before walking back to center and bowing for her audience. They loved her, and she wasn't even the lead!

Emma quickly ran upstage again and began another variation. Even before she finished, she could picture her fans applauding her wonderful work. She smiled out to her fans as she bowed, and did the same thing with every other variation she could think of from the ballet. She never seemed to tire. When she danced, every nerve was alert to what she was doing, and she never ran out of energy. Emma finished the last dance and figured that she had time for one more variation before she had to leave. Smiling, she positioned herself, and began the first of Coppélia's dances from "Coppélia". It was her favorite solo to perform, and since she had practiced it so much, she had perfected it.

As she finished, Emma could feel that this was the best time she had ever performed the dance, even if no one saw her. As she left, she smiled to herself and hummed a piece of music that had popped into her head. She returned to the inn and fell asleep instantly.


	9. Chapter 9

Erik: Hello readers, I have currently taken over control of this phanfic since a certain author has…annoyed me.

Me: THAT'S NOT FAIR! I MADE ONE LITTLE COMMENT AND HE TIED ME UP!

Erik: Now, you know that's not true. Just stay still and be quiet. I might even let you have dinner if you behave.

Me: you're kidding…right? *sheepishly looks at Erik*

Erik: Maybe, maybe not. You'll just have to find out. Ok, so the usual disclaimers apply to this story…something about Andrew Lloyd Weber…Leroux…and a movie (I'm confused). And she would like to thank everyone who has read her story!

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Chapter 9

Erik watched the girl disappear into the night for the third time. He had to admit that she was a nice person; Caesar had trusted her very quickly. She had made him laugh to same extent as well. He would need to keep a close eye on her to make sure that she did not need to be silenced in some way. Erik also wanted to know if she had seen his mask, which he had been lucky enough to find in the Giry girl's bedroom.

Erik began to think of the girl's dancing. Though he was not a dancer himself, he had learned plenty from watching Antoinette's classes. After the girl had used her "barre" she progressed to center work and then pre-set choreography. For a girl her age, appearing to be a young teen, she was well advanced technically. She could use help with the actual concept of dancing, but that would come in time.

As he remembered the choreography that the girl had performed, Erik was struck by the one piece he had recognized. It was from a fairly new ballet, "Coppélia." he could see that the girl favored this piece greatly, and he noticed how it seemed to come more naturally to her than anything else she had danced.

As Erik reached his gondola, he realized that sooner or later he would have to make contact with the girl. He could try to help her, but he didn't know if a) she would want help, or b) if he would actually help her.

_It depends on how you reach her,_ said the voice in his head. It almost seemed to want to help him instead of make fun of him. Hesitantly, Erik asked: _What do you suggest?_

_Hmmm, I would just talk to her tomorrow. Start with a suggestion so that she isn't too concerned about what is happening. If she doesn't run away, I would offer to help her. Do you understand?_

Erik had reached the edge of the lake by that point. Looking at the piles of music he had thrown around a few days ago, he sighed. _I guess you're right, but how do I know it won't end similar to last time? _

_ You don't. I'm sure she is different though. I approve of this girl… for the time being._

Erik half smiled at the thought. He needed a voice in his head to approve of who he talked too? That was not normal. Erik sat down at the organ, forgetting about the mess for another night. He began to play a new song. It was purely instrumental, and Erik wondered if he should write it down. Maybe he would do so later that night…

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Erik woke up the next day with determination in his eyes, not that anyone was actually around to see that, but…yeah. He was planning on talking to the girl today. She needed a name, and Erik was going to find out one way or another.

That day, he groomed Caesar and took him out for some exercise. It felt good to have the wind in his face, and Caesar redeemed himself for running away the previous night. Erik wanted to thank Caesar for escaping because that was how he really met the girl. But, then he would realize that it was somewhat difficult to thank a horse, so Erik settled on giving Caesar some sugar cubes.

The meeting with the girl had really been strange. She had made him laugh so recently after…

_No, I will not think about her._ Erik was doing everything he could to forget the soprano who had captured his heart, to put it simply. He returned from his ride, took care of Caesar, and headed back to his cave. All the while, he hummed to himself. It was the song he had played last night. He intended to write it down eventually.

After spending most of the day finally cleaning the mess in the cave, Erik heard the sound of angry footsteps above his head. He also heard a voice, one that was quite angry. Wondering if it was the girl, and if it was dark already, Erik hurried out of his cave.

He headed to the stage, but found no one there. Looking around in hopes that he would find the person, Erik realized that the doors had been locked. He smacked himself on the head. He had the doors locked so that he wouldn't have to deal with this frantic searching.

Rushing to the main hall, he looked out to see the girl standing there. It wasn't exactly dark outside, so she must have come early. As he opened the doors to let her in, Erik noticed that the girl seemed particularly angry. He wondered what could have possibly happened to her.

Following the girl to the stage, Erik sat down in his box and watched the girl. Here he was in the shadows but he could see and hear the girl. Unfortunately the girl was mumbling for the most part, so Erik only caught snippets of what she was saying.

"Mother…not 'normal'…me? of course not!...stupid…UGH!" she finished.

With a sigh, the girl closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She began to hum a tune with a slow tempo. Turning around, she placed her left hand on the chair and began to dance. All the time she hummed, one song flowing into the next. Eventually, the girl began to sing. It was soft, but Erik had very good ears. As the song progressed, Erik was able to make out the lyrics to the song because the girl grew louder and stopped dancing.

_Child of the wilderness,_

_ Born into emptiness,_

_ Learn to be lonely,_

_ Learn to be your one companion._

_ Who will be there for you?_

_ Comfort and care for you,_

_ Learn to be lonely,_

_ Learn to find your way in darkness._

_ Never dreamed out in the world_

_ There are arms to hold you…_

She sang the entire song. Listening to the lyrics almost made Erik weep. Those lyrics had a strong impact on Erik. He was lost in memories. He almost forgot the girl was singing, until she stopped. With another sigh, she dragged the chair out of her way and began to dance. Filled with some emotion, the girl's dancing changed dramatically. Erik could feel her annoyance and grief from where he was sitting. Desperate to make himself known, Erik found some correction to make.

"_When you extend your leg, hold it just a second longer. You won't be late, and the audience will fully get to appreciate your lines."_ Erik spoke gently so as to not frighten the girl.

Looking up, the girl tried to find the source of the voice. Seeing nothing, she shrugged and went back to her dancing. This time, she held the extension slightly longer, improving the dance greatly with such little effort. Erik decided to try again.

"_Focus your eyes at all times. Even if you are looking at the floor, look down and out to keep your balance and to make your head part of a line." _

Now confused, the girl looked around with a crease in her brow. She seemed to be asking herself who was telling her these things. When no other sound came, she tried to fix the correction.

"_Look out more."_

She did.

"_Much better."_

"Thank you," she said with uncertainty. She knew the voice was not in her head, but she could not see the man watching her. Erik smiled at this and spoke again.

"_Can you show me something else? Another dance you know?"_

"I-I guess I could." the girl walked upstage and began to dance again. This was a more joyful dance, with many jumps and hops. A natural smile found its way onto her face as she danced. Finishing, she waited for critiques. The girl had learned quickly.

"_Not terrible. Tendu for me."_

She did.

"_Now really stretch your foot. Pretend you're reaching for something just beyond your reach. Feel the stretch in your arch and remember that feeling. When you jump, you want that same feeling in your foot."_

"I never thought of it that way. I always thought to just point my toes," came her reply. For the next few minutes, she tried jumping around.

"_One last thing, would you practice some turns?"_

She prepared, and did a double pirouette. Quickly, she did more, falling out of one every so often. Then, she did one pirouette and started to fouette. After about eight turns, she finished.

"_Not bad, but you're not—"_

"-spotting. It's a bad habit," the girl finished.

Slightly taken aback, Erik replied, "_Yes, that would be your problem."_

The girl smiled. "If that is all, may I leave?"

"_You may. May I inquire as to what your name is?"_

"Emma. My name is Emma Lisle." Not knowing where to look, the girl simply curtsied to the audience and left.

Hearing the door close, Erik smiled. A plan forming in his head already…

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Me: Yay! I'm free. Ok, so obviously the song is not mine, and in no way do I claim to own the song. Um, many of my chapters might be sort of boring, but I do have an interesting story in my head. At least, it's interesting to me.

Erik: Hey! What are you doing?

Me: Ok, so maybe I'm not free. Um, I'll update soon

Erik: *ties me up* Oh, and she wants me to tell you to please review. The button right below? Reviews make her happy.

P.S. I'm tied up because I told Erik that I was gonna post sooner than I actually did (sorry everyone) and I brought up his mother…I've learned that that is not a good idea in any way.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's the next chapter!

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Chapter 10

Erik went back to his lair and sat at the organ. He was in a good mood after his visit from the girl. Emma, her name was Emma.

_Emma huh? I like it_ said a certain voice.

_Will you leave me alone?_ Erik thought as he quickly became annoyed.

_Eh, I don't feel like it. So, what do you think of the girl?_

Erik sighed. He had to be going mad. Against his better judgment, he began to answer. _She's young. It will be easier to work with her I think. She is willing o learn, so corrections should be no big deal. Also, she seems to quickly catch onto things._

_ But…_ the voice said.

_There's something about her. I don't know what it is, but it seems that something strange is going to happen._

The voice was silent.

With a sigh, Erik turned his mind to his music. he placed his fingers on the organ and began to play. A light, cheerful sound bounced off the walls as he played. Cheerful music? Really? He shook his head and continued playing.

Eventually the song ended, but Erik didn't start another one. A thought had crossed his mind. He stood up and walked to one of the smashed mirrors. Erik stared at his reflection. Would Emma have to see him? Would she ever want to see him? Foolish thoughts of course, Emma would definitely want to see the man that was coaching her. What had stopped Erik in his tracks was the question of if she would ever HAVE to see him.

If he was going to instruct her with her dancing, he could do so from the shadows. It would be very simple really. He could just instruct her to never ask to see him. Erik felt sure that she would do as told. But then again…she was a curious girl. Who knew what would happen?

Breaking his gaze, Erik walked to his dresser and removed his cape, jacket, vest, and shoes. He walked to his bed and sat down. Reaching up in an effort to remove the mask, Erik paused.

_Why am I helping her?_

_ Because you see part of yourself in her._

Erik slid his mask off and lay down on his back. Gazing at the ceiling, he thought of what the voice had said. He slowly drifted to sleep as he tried to find any similarities the two had with each other.

That night Erik was troubled with a confusing dream. It began with a group of about fifteen girls dancing on the stage of the Opera Populáre. Looking closely at the girls, Erik noticed that they were all identical. The confusing piece was that the girls would look like Emma one moment and Christine the next.

When the girls looked like Emma, they would take a step back from him while dancing as if they were afraid of him. Seeing the eyes, Erik saw that they were backing up so that he could see them more clearly and give them corrections. In the middle of a turn before he could say anything, they became Christines. The group would take a step forward as if inviting him to join them. Subconsciously, Erik would take a step forward too. Christine had that affect on him even in his dreams.

This little dance between the Emmas/Christines and Erik lasted for some time. Just as Erik was getting frustrated, everyone vanished except for one Emma and one Christine. The girls seemed oblivious to the other, only looking at Erik.

Christine held her hand out to Erik, inviting him to take it. As his fingers touched hers, she vanished. With confusion and shock written on his face, Erik looked at Emma who was still there.

She simply looked at him with her own confusion and pity. She opened her mouth to say something, but Erik woke up. Tears were slowly trickling down his face because of the dream. For the rest of the night, sleep evaded Erik.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: First, I really have to say that if you're reading this THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME!!! I really have neglected my story. First there was the whole writer's block, then Thanksgiving and a funeral, then 2 shows, exams, and my parents. Um, I think I know how I want the story to end; I just have to get far enough into the story before it will be really easy to write. I think that the reason I've had writer's block has something to do with a show I'm doing in the spring. It's Alice in Wonderland, and my teacher already knows the roles of me and my friends, but she absolutely refuses to tell us until the whole cast list goes up…being me? The whole thing is way more nerve-wracking than it should be. OK, I'm shutting up now.

Erik: And here I was thinking you would never be quiet…

*glares at Erik* Funny, very funny

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Chapter 11

It was finally the next night. Emma had no idea where she had been dragged all day because she was exhausted from staying up so late the night before. Whoever had been correcting her seemed to have taken some interest in her. She had been alone in an opera house, dancing, in the middle of the night. She really would need to thank the…voice.

Emma slipped off her sheets and quietly stepped out of bed as soon as her mother fell asleep. She rearranged the pillows to give the illusion of a sleeping person, and quickly changed. She reached the opera house quickly, only to find the doors locked. Her new "acquaintance" must not have been expecting her so soon. She took the opportunity to go searching.

After a while, Emma found herself near the stables. She could have sworn she heard something in there, and against her better judgment she decided to see what was there. Cautiously peeking her head around the corner, Emma saw a horse. She had not seen the horse the last time she had been in here, and Emma wondered if it had something to do with her instructor. She stepped closer to the horse to get a better view of it, only to let out a sharp, "Caesar!"

As Emma had stepped forward, the horse had noticed her presence and had turned its head to get a better look at her. Emma would remember that face anywhere. it was the same horse that had escaped two nights ago, but who would be here? Thinking long and hard, Emma tried to remember the events of that night. She remembered the voice from that night, and compared it to the one she heard in the building. Emma's eyes opened as she realized that the voices belonged to the same man. Now she had a good idea as to who was coaching her, or at least she had a body that belonged with the voice.

Emma looked at the horse, "It's been long enough, he must know that I'm here by now." With on last glance at Caesar, Emma ran back to the front of the opera house.

* * *

Emma was breathing hard. She had just finished an intense combination the "voice" had asked of her. For the third time. Up to this point, she had tried not to think about the man coaching her. She had simply done what had been asked of her. Now it was time to take a chance.

"_That was good. Get some water and rest for a moment,"_ came the musical voice.

Emma walked over to the water she had been smart enough to bring and sat down. Slowly, her breath returned and she felt her pulse begin to slow. Taking a deep breath, she asked: "You're Caesar's owner, aren't you?" Emma tried to sound like it was of little importance to her, but failed quite miserably.

"Yes I am," replied the voice, no, person. It had been said without hesitation, so Emma took that as a good sign.

"Okay. Is there something you would prefer me to call you monsieur?" she asked somewhat randomly.

"You may call me Erik. There's really not a need for formalities here," came a reply.

"Erik…okay. Since we have, I guess, met before, why don't you show yourself?"

With his reply came a slight falter in his voice. it was almost like he was pleading her not to ask.

"Time will tell," he half-sang.

Emma was thoroughly confused. When she saw that Erik was not going to explain anything, she stood up and said, "What do you want me to do next?"

* * *

After a long time, Emma was ready to crawl into her bed and sleep. Just as she was about to sit down to take off her shoes, Erik began talking to her. He sounded much closer this time. Emma looked up only to be disappointed when she saw nothing.

"I wonder…I want to try something different. I wonder if you could dance to this," Erik mused.

_Dance to what music?_ Emma thought to herself. Immediately, she heard the sound of an organ being played. Quite skillfully too. She recognized the song but she could not remember the name of it. She closed her eyes, completely entranced, and let the music wash over her. She knew that Erik had to be not only a natural at this, but he must be some sort of genius.

Erik cleared his throat just loudly enough to be heard. Emma snapped her eyes open, and started to dance. She wasn't sure of what she was doing, but she quickly forgot about everything and just let go of her body, letting it move with the music. She felt so free and alive that she didn't notice the music begin to fade out. In the middle of a turn, she could have sworn she had seen something white, causing her to return to reality. Stumbling out of the turn, she realized that it had been completely silent for the past few minutes. Emma's cheeks turned a bright pink very rapidly.

"Oops," she mumbled.

"Don't be embarrassed. That was…excellent," Erik said. Emma could have sworn she heard him chuckling to himself. "Now, go get some sleep Emma."

Emma slowly lost the bright color in her cheeks as she untied her pointe shoes and threw on her cloak. She had liked the way her name sounded when it came from his mouth, like a drop of honey on a piece of bread. As Emma left, she had one last question for Erik.

"Why are you helping me?"

"You have true passion for what you do, and you work hard to better yourself every time you dance. I can see more talent in you than in some well-known companies," was Erik's simple reply.

Emma was stunned. She stared at the door in front of her, not even able to say a small, "thank you".

"It's the truth, and you're welcome," Erik said. Even her silence had said enough.

With that, Emma retuned to the Peacock Inn and lay down to sleep. As she closed her eyes, she finally smiled.

* * *

The next morning, Emma woke up still smiling. Her mother looked at her in an odd way, but Emma didn't care. As the two waited for the other women, Emma's mother turned to her.

"Emma, I can imagine that being with these ladies might not be exciting for you. I've talked with them, and we have agreed that we will visit the Opera Populáre for you. One of the ladies knows an old stagehand who can give us a tour."

_Hmmm…I wonder if I could get Erik to…wait. WHAT?_

"Um Mother, can you repeat that?" Emma asked.

"Weren't you listening? On Monday we're going to take an afternoon tour of the opera house you've been wanting to see. And, I've decided that once the tour is over you can stay a little while longer if you promise not to try anything dangerous," her mother repeated.

"Oh my gosh Mama! Thant you! Thank you! Thank you! I don't believe this!" Emma couldn't help it. Even though she had already been to the opera house, something still made her excited about this trip. Emma noticed her mother smiling proudly.

_Maybe I'll find Erik. Ooh, I should tell him tonight so he's not surprised. Once my mother and her friends leave we can talk…_

* * *

Okay, two things: 1) I know that I changed the way Erik talked to Emma in this chapter (italics, quote marks, etc.). I did this to show Emma's perception of him. First as a figment of her imagination, then a strange voice, then a person. Sorry if it's annoying.

2) I must thank everyone who reviewed and who has read my story including: AngelicMinx, WeAreTheFuture, Kryn Strife, DelusionalSanctuary, and other people who I currently have forgotten.

I PROMISE TO WRITE MORE EITHER TOMORROW OR WEDNESDAY. Erik can torture me if I don't…


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: If I wasn't writing this I would murder my computer. Yesterday it crashed while I was trying to upload this…and it wasn't ready until now. I did have the intention to upload this chapter yesterday though, don't be mad *hides under a rock sheepishly*

A/N: Well, here's chapter 12. I probably won't write again until Thursday or Friday next week, I actually going somewhere after Christmas (something I have not done in a few years). Merry Christmas everyone, and to those who don't celebrate, have a good holiday! *looks pointedly at Erik*

Erik: oh, um… Merry Christmas?

Good! I'm teaching him to be nicer

* * *

Chapter 12

Erik sat cross-legged in front of a statue closest to the stage. He was holding a medium-sized paintbrush in his hand. With a pail of gold paint next to him, Erik was finishing painting the statue. He knew that some of the statues needed to be repainted after he caught the opera house on fire, and he didn't have anything better to do that day.

Painting the statues was mindless work for Erik. He couldn't play anything he deemed worthy to write down that day, it was too early for Emma to arrive, and he couldn't stand to be in that cave a moment longer. He was, he admitted, bored. Finding nothing else to do, he decided to paint statues.

Adding one last stroke, Erik looked up at the statue to make sure he was finished.

_There, that's five. The rest on this side are passable until this place is used again._

Erik stood and stretched for a moment. Sitting that long was not exciting in any way, and it made him stiffen. Grabbing the paint, Erik started to walk to the other side of the auditorium. Quickly examining the statues, Erik saw only two or three that needed a new coat of paint. He walked over to the first one, sat down, and began his work. Eventually, he started humming to himself. It was the song that Emma had sung the other night. Erik suddenly felt a deep sadness take hold of him.

_That song…of course, she had to sing the one song that I can relate to._

Without realizing what he was doing, Erik began singing. He sang Emma's song because it was stuck in his head and he remembered the lyrics. While he sang, he resumed working on the statue. The song helped urge him into finishing painting. After he grew tired of singing, Erik sat in pure silence for the first time in his life. His mind was blank and he focused only on painting the statue.

Erik finished the statues close to mid-afternoon and went to feed Caesar. As he filled the horse's water trough, he asked Caesar what to do. Looking up, he could have sworn the horse was giving him a look that said 'I don't know, just tell her the whole truth."

_I have to be insane…_

* * *

Erik was in the shadows on the side of the stage watching Emma move through a petite allegro combination. When she finished, he told her to take a break. As he spoke, he noticed that she turned her head to the left and looked at the spot where he was standing. Fortunately, he had hidden himself in too deep of the shadows to be seen. Emma sighed and walked over to her water. As she re-tied her ribbons, Erik noticed her hands. They were long and skinny in a way that suited piano and organ players. He wondered if she had ever tried playing an instrument, but decided not to ask.

"Monsieur Erik, I've been wondering…are you the supposed Opera Ghost I've been hearing about?" Emma suddenly asked. She was looking down at her feet as the words stumbled out of her mouth.

Erik grimaced slightly. He knew it was only a matter of time before she asked something that would be too painful for him to talk about. Being cautious, he answered, "I have been called that, but I did not actually create such a 'title' for myself."

"Oh, okay," came her only reply. Erik waited for the floods of questions, the polite excuses, and for her to simply run away. All that met him was silence.

_Wait, that's it?_ Erik was shocked.

"Oh, I should tell you this. My mother, some other women, and I are taking a tour of the opera house on Monday. Afterwards, I'm allowed to stay by myself for a few hours. Maybe I could have my lesson earlier that day or something," Emma explained.

"A tour? You're getting a tour? Who is giving you the tour?" Erik exclaimed.

"I don't know his name, but I think he might have worked here before. I thought you might want to know so that you can…remain out of sight if you wish," Emma said.

"Well, at least you were kind enough to tell me," Erik muttered with clenched teeth. People still thought they could control what happened at the opera house. Did they learn nothing? For the rest of the lesson, Erik was too perturbed to give any real instruction, so Emma left soon.

_Those fools! They think they can do what they want in the opera house. Even if they don't know I'm here, they should know better!_

Erik continued his silent rage and began to think of ways to take his revenge. At least, he did until he remembered that Emma would be there. With a sigh, Erik pushed aside all desire for revenge. HE was not going to harm Emma or cause her to be afraid of him if he could. As he laid down to try and sleep, Erik realized what he had to do. He could trust Emma, he knew that. She knew he was the "Opera Ghost" and she didn't think anything different of him, so that had to mean something, right?

That night Erik had a dream about Emma. He saw himself watching Emma from the side of the stage as she danced for a crowd. He saw a proud smile on his face. Erik figured that the dream Erik was proud for Emma and shared in her joy.

As Erik continued to watch, the dance ended. It seemed to be the finale because he noticed the crowd stand up and cheer for her. Erik looked back at Emma to see her bowing. Then, Emma looked at the dream Erik, smiling, and ran over to him.

"Come on! You deserve the applause more than I do! Come on!" she yelled over the crowd.

Erik's eyes widened as he saw himself smile, take her hand, and walk onstage. he looked out over the audience, who had managed to become even louder, and took a bow. With one last bow by the two of them, Erik watched the curtains close just as he woke up.

It was morning. It was the first time in a very long time that he had slept the whole night through. He felt rested as he sat up and reached for his mask. He put on fresh clothes, just a white shirt and black pants, and walked out of his bedroom. He wasn't doing anything fancy today. Either Emma wasn't bothered by his appearance, or she was.

Erik sat down at his organ and began to play. His mental block seemed to have disappeared from the day before. He didn't write down a full song, but he wrote down what could become excerpts from future songs. His whole day was spent doing this until he heard Emma outside of the opera house.

Erik was late, so he ran to open the doors. He had not known that he had spent all day at the organ. He found Emma patiently waiting at the door.

"Good evening Emma," he said.

"Hello Erik," she replied softly.

As if nothing was different, Emma walked to the stage and began to warm up as Erik gave corrections every so often. Each time, Emma did as she was told. Emma finished warming up and pulled the chair off stage.

Erik took a deep breath before he spoke. If he didn't do this now he knew that he never would. "Emma, there is something that I would like to show you."

Before she could reply, Erik followed his instinct and took a step forward. He didn't look at Emma as he continued to step onto the stage. When he finally stopped, he slowly raised his head to see her staring at him, frozen like a statue.

The only thing in Erik's mind was, _What have I done?_

* * *

A/N: Oh, I didn't realize I left you guys with a cliff-hanger. Sorry… I will tell you that Erik is just kind of paranoid. He hasn't given Emma enough time to actually look at him…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Happy New Year to you all! Thanks for the reviews, they help motivate me Okay, chapter 13 brings a new twist to the plot…I'm just not sure how big of a twist it's gonna be. Enjoy! Oh, and I don't own anything from Phantom. I really wish I did though...

* * *

Chapter 13

Emma was not expecting for this to happen. When Erik stepped out, the first thing that ran through her head was that he was not at all what she was expecting. She vaguely remembered his height and general form, but not much else from that night came to her. Emma had figured that he was on the same level of ground as she was, but she didn't realize that he had been a few yards away from her. Getting over her initial shock, Emma focused on Erik.

He had a lean, yet what looked like muscular, body. He was fairly tall, but he was not towering over her. His hands were long and delicate, perfect for playing the organ. Emma noticed that he was well dressed for a ghost. Other then that, Emma really couldn't describe Erik. There was something about him that was just…there. Remembering to breathe, Emma noticed that she had not looked at his face yet.

Looking up, Emma stopped breathing. The first thing she saw was his eyes. They were icy and warm at the same time, but Emma couldn't tell what color they were. Erik's eyes almost looked like they were gold, but they were slightly sunken in, so she couldn't see them well. She could tell that there was pain and suffering in those eyes, but also love and caring. It took determination to look away from Erik's eyes.

Emma noticed Erik's slicked-back black hair. From her point of view, it looked to be just longer than his collar. The rest of his face was handsome, but with a hardness that masked some of the handsomeness. From a slight lack of breath, it took Emma some time to realize that his face was two different colors. Focusing, she saw the mask on the right side of Erik's face.

_A mask? I wonder why…_ she thought.

Emma could tell that it would take some time before she was used to his strong but near invisible presence. it would take a long time.

"Emma?" Erik asked hesitantly. Emma felt her cheeks redden. She had been staring much more than appropriate.

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this," she managed to say.

A look of confusion and curiosity crossed Erik's face.

"No! Not in a bad way…you just look different than I thought you would." _Different as in cuter… _she admitted to herself.

Erik still looked confused, but he shook it off quickly. "I must admit, you never cease to amaze me. No one has had that reaction to me when they first see me…" Erik said after a slightly awkward silence.

Now Emma was confused. She didn't ask anything, but Erik obviously noticed her confusion because he began to explain himself.

"That was not clear was it? When most people see me for the first time they are generally quite frightened. They try to run away or they ask about my mask. You, you don't seem bothered by my presence after your initial shock."

"Well, from what I've heard people usually saw you when you were not particularly happy with them. Maybe that has something to do with them running away. Today, you stand in front of me as harmless as possible. I have a feeling that you could scare me if you wanted," Emma mused, more to herself than Erik.

After another awkward silence, Erik asked if they should resume the lesson. Emma said that she was thinking that she would leave for the night so that she could get a good night's sleep before she toured the opera house the next day. Hearing this, Erik talked to her as she removed her shoes.

"Are you staying after the, uh, tour tomorrow?" he questioned.

"I will be staying, but I was thinking that I could just have my lesson then. I can leave my shoes here in a hiding spot and put my hair up after everyone else leaves. I am not sure though because my mom is letting me stay for a few hours. I think it will probably end up being longer than one of our normal lessons, so I might wait a while before dancing," Emma began rambling. She could feel Erik's eyes watching her, and it was slightly unnerving to her. Knowing she had said a great deal too much, Emma became quiet. Neither person spoke until Emma reached the entrance to the opera house. Erik had been following her.

"I guess this is goodnight monsieur Erik," Emma said.

"Goodnight mademoiselle Emma," he replied quietly, staring into her eyes.

Emma turned and walked out of the opera house. She was not sure of what had happened, or why, but she tried to focus on the next day. Turning back one last time, Emma could have sworn that she could see two golden eyes watching her.

As Emma slipped into bed, she still couldn't stop thinking about Erik.

* * *

Emma woke up and smiled. It was Monday, which meant that she was going to see the Opera Populáre in the light for once! Emma was alert and talkative the whole time at breakfast. Her mother laughed at Emma's enthusiasm, but she was glad that Emma was showing interest in something.

As soon as the left to meet the other women in front of the opera house, Emma practically ran the whole way. Emma paused when she realized that maybe she shouldn't know the way to the opera house. Turning around, she could see her mother laughing.

"It would be like you to know where we are going. Even if you've never been there," her mother explained.

With a sigh, Emma replied, "You know me mama, I'm just so excited!"

As the building finally came into sight, Emma stopped. It gleamed in the sunlight with the gold that was left. Emma smiled; she could understand why it was so famous and why Erik was living there. She could just picture it as the sun was fading and the lines for the opera were just forming.

_It must have been magnificent before the accident. How I wish I could see it like it was then!_

Turning around, Emma noticed her mother was farther back, but she too had stopped. The building was still so amazing even though it was not being properly cared for. After a while, her mother started walking again. They were eventually joined by the other women. Last to arrive was Mrs. Lebaux and a strange-looking man with her. He turned out to be their tour guide.

Erik had remembered to leave the doors unlocked so that they tour may actually take place. The man introduced himself when everyone was inside, but Emma didn't pay attention to his name. They walked all over the opera house from the dressing rooms to the stage. Emma could somehow tell that Erik was walking around with them, hidden in the shadows.

The last place the group visited was the stage. As they entered, Emma saw the tour guide quickly mask his look of horror form his face. He had explained to the group some of the previous accident, but he had not said anything about the chandelier being cleared away.

"Well, I guess someone has taken the trouble of cleaning this place. Probably just for money off the crystals," he said, trying to give a reason to what had happened.

Emma rolled her eyes when no one was looking. Looking up, Emma noticed that some statues looked like they had recently been painted, but it could have just been her imagination. Walking backstage, Emma noticed a letter addressed to her. Seeing the flowing yet messy script, she quickly pocketed the note until the other women left.

As Emma walked back onto the stage, her mother approached her. "Emma! We are about to leave. You may stay as long as you like, but please be back before supper."

Emma laughed at the slight contradiction, but bid farewell to her mother and the other ladies. Left alone, Emma waited for Erik to appear. He didn't. Only then did Emma remember the letter in her pocket.

**Emma,**

**I am afraid that I will be absent for a little while.****I have to fun a quick errand. If you would do me a favor and warm up while you wait for me, it would save time. I want to do something different today. I should not be gone for too long.**

**Erik**

Emma smiled. That explained why Erik was missing. Pulling off her dress to reveal her practice outfit, Emma quickly pulled her hair up and put on her shoes. Dragging the chair out, Emma began to warm up. As she was doing a few, quick relevés Erik walked in. He appeared from the audience and said hello to Emma.

"I want to look at those variations from Coppélia today," Erik said.

Emma's mind instantly filled with hundreds of questions, but she withheld them. Instead, she simply asked which one would be first.

Erik smiled at the question before disappearing into the orchestra pit. After a moment of silence, he began to play one of the pieces from the ballet. Emma quickly found her place, and began to dance. In the middle of a series of turns, something strange happened. Erik stopped playing. Emma stopped and focused her eyes, she was slightly dizzy.

Turning to the audience, Emma noticed a figure in the back right corner. It was a young woman, no older than 22. She was simply staring at Emma.

Hearing a faint rustle, Emma looked over to the side of the stage. Erik was crouched there, obviously hiding. His eyes told her that he wasn't to be mentioned if possible. Emma didn't understand what was going on, so she took matters into her own hands.

"Ummm…hello?" she asked.

"Oh, hello. You're a lovely dancer. Better than me at least. My name is Christine Daáe," came a reply.

Glancing at Erik, Emma noticed him stiffen at the mention of her name. She was very curious now.

"Thank you. Do you dance?" Emma asked.

"You could say that. I was a chorus girl at this opera house some time ago."

_A chorus girl? Erik must know her then…which would explain at least part of his reaction…_ Emma guessed.

"That's interesting. Is there something I can help you with?" Emma replied.

"No, I wasn't expecting anyone to be here. I came back to… this was a very special place to me. I met a very extraordinary person here."

"Oh! I'm sorry to disturb you!" Emma swiftly responded.

"Oh, you're fine. I'll ju-" Christine began.

On the downstage stage left corner a single blood-red rose appeared. It was tied with a black ribbon. Both girls stared at it for some time. The silence was finally broken by Christine.

"Someone must like your dancing. That's a special gift to be given," Christine said **very** quietly.

Emma could tell that Christine knew exactly what this rose meant. "Well, if I knew who gave it to me I would thank them…" Emma said.

"Maybe it was a ghost," Christine said trying to joke.

"Maybe. Oh, I'm so thoughtless. I'm Emma," Emma replied while mentally kicking herself for being so rude.

"That's fine. Nice to meet you Emma. I think I shall leave now," Christine said while once again being quiet. She left before Emma could say good-bye.

_Strange…_

Emma walked over to the rose. It was beautiful. Looking around, she noticed something. Erik had disappeared.

* * *

Okay, how is it? I really wasn't planning on this untill I wrote it…we'll see how it works out. It's probably going to be a while before I write again since school starts again. I can already tell my teachers are going to give lots of homework I promise to write as soon as I can.


End file.
